America vs Russia: Habanera Challenge For Mexico's Heart
by LunallenaWrwolf01
Summary: America decides its about time he finally made a move on Mexico. Unluckily for him, Russia decides its time to let Mexico know how much he loves her. What better way to win over the heart of the Hispanic than eating a lot of Habaneros? Whoever wins the challenge wins the girl! RussMex with AmeMex. I DON'T own Hetalia. Rated T for language.
1. Out of all the people YOU like her, too?

***** This is a two shot request for guest MexicanoQIChiile about Russia vs America in an habanero game 8D*****

The handsome young man places the finishing touches to his outfit. He puts on an expensive looking black blazer that causes his shoulders to look tone and muscular. The blond unbuttons the first two buttons of his white long sleeved shirt under the blazer, giving him a relaxed demeanor.

He reaches for the lovely bouquet filled with a variety of different colored dahlias and roses. The blond smiles arrogantly as he admires his good looks reflected on the body-sized mirror.

"No going back now," America smiles wirily.

His thoughts were arguing with one another whether he should really go through with this or not as he left his house hesitatingly.

'Is this really a good idea? What will she say? What if she just laughs in my face?' These questions fly across Alfred's head.

He gets on his private helicopter and stares out the window worriedly.

'No! I'm the hero meant to save her! Of cores she'll say yes!' The American snaps out of his nervous state to warp his feelings into confidence and excitement.

* * *

The light, brown haired country ties a black tie around the neck of the tall male. The shy nation smiles lightly as he finishes fixing the tie. The pale man smiles widely as his little helper completes the last touch.

"You look nuostabus (wonderful)," Lithuania smiles cheerfully.

"Spasibo (thank you)," Russia beams with excitement.

Lithuania hands Ivan a simple bouquet of only five flowers. The Russian thought the choice of the plants very carefully.

He chose a sunflower because, although her tomboyish features, he considers her as beautiful as the bright, happy plant. He chose two white with dark red dahlias, her favorite. Lastly, he chose two of his national flowers, the chamomile.

Russia smiles widely as he sniffs the gorgeous flowers.

"Do you think she'll like them?" He asks a little nervously.

"She vill love them," The bright green eyed Lithuanian assures.

Russia becomes happier than he already was. The emerald eyed nation hands the Russian his scarf and Ivan raps it around his neck. Now his outfit is complete.

The intimidating sweetheart gives one more smile to Lithuania before walking out into the cold outside.

"No going back now, da?" He breathes in a little anxious but still very enthusiastic.

* * *

America whistles as he strolls along happily towards Mexico's ranch. The day is perfect. Birds are whistling, the nice cool breeze makes up for the hot rays of the sun, the grass is at its greenest; everything is absolutely marvelous.

'Nothing can go wrong,' The American cheerfully thinks to himself.

"America?" A familiar soft voice asks behind him.

Alfred turns around to see Russia all fixed up in a very nice looking suite consisting of a black blazer, a light blue long sleeved undershirt, a black tie, black dress pants, and black dress shoes.

"Russia, what are you doing here?" America ask suspiciously.

"I was just about to ask you the same thing, da," Russia forces a deceiving smile.

"Well, I live very close. You don't." The blond glares.

He knows why Ivan's here. He's here to see Rosa. Why else would the pale nation be in Mexico. Alfred hates it when Russia visits his neighbor. He loathes the fact that they are such good friends.

'Why is she so nice to _him_? What makes _him_ so damn great?' America asks himself bitterly.

"Da, but you are rarely seen wearing a suit," The Russian's jolly expression doesn't match his feelings.

'Out of all the days, why does the immature brat chose today to see Mexico? Why is he so nicely dressed? He better not be robed like that for Rosa. She's mine, da.' The Russian angrily thinks to himself.

"I could ask the same to you. That suite looks pretty new and expensive. You never buy stuff without a _re~ally_ good reason… What's up with the flowers?" He looks at the five plants held by Russia's right hand.

"They're for Mexico. Why do you have flowers?" Russia looks at the blonde's bouquet. If he had laser vision those plants would be incinerated.

"Same. I'm gonna ask her out on a date," America grins feeling victorious due to the fact his bouquet is bigger than Russia's.

"Funny, that's what I'm going to do…"

The two nations stare at each other intensely, trying to figure out the others next move. They both simultaneously look at Mexico's ranch then look back at each other's competitive eyes.

Both of the countries run at the same time towards Mexico's residence.

"She's going with me!" America states loudly as he sprints in front of the tall male.

"Not likely, da?" A dark aura starts to form behind Russia as he dashes past the blond.

The two men run as fast as they can towards the house, trying to beat the other. America glances at Russia between every step. He stares at the violate orbs with a smirk, as if assuring the Russian he won't win. Ivan's intense eyes stare back at the piercing blue orbs with powerful darkness causing the blond to gulp, feeling a little intimidated.

They both reach the house at the same time and pound on the door as they stare into each other's eyes angrily.

A tan, short young lady opens the door with a puzzled expressin.

"Will you go out with me?!" America shouts the question with a weak smile and Russia asks with a sweet tone and light smile.

Mexico stares at the two nations with a blank expression for a few seconds only to later on mutter, "… Have you been buying drugs from my cartels?"

The two males fall down to the floor gasping for air wildly.

"They… are… for… you," they both present the dead flowers to the confused girl.

She smiles lightly as she reaches for the plants, "Umm, gracias (thanks)… You guys should sit down."

They glare at each other as they both walk tiredly towards her couch.

Mexico watches their movements from the kitchen. They are always at each other's throats. These immature actions irritate her. Why can't they move on? The past is the past!

She moves her head down to look at the destroyed, yet beautiful, flowers in her hands.

'They… they got these for me… Why?' She asks herself then remembers what they said when she opened the door.

'Go out? As in novia y novio (girlfriend and boyfriend)? Que en el nombre de Dios esta pasando (what in God's name is happening)?' She asks herself skeptically.

*****I have thought and thought and then thought some more on how to end this story and I can't really decide. I'm not sure whether Russia or America should win, or if they should both fail epically. Can you please leave on the reviews how you think I should end it 8) It would really help with inspiration to continue because I'm kind of in a writers block XD Please review and tell me what you think 8) Gracias!*****


	2. She's mine!

*****Sooooo sorry it took me soooo long! 8( I was just going to make this a two shot but if I waited till I was done, this wouldn't be up this month probably X( That's why I'm posting kind of small chapters. So you don't have to wait too much 8) Hope you like it!*****

Mexico's dark, brown eyes widen as she tries to assess the situation.

Since when were this two attracted to her that way? Not that Mexico isn't good looking, but she has always just been one of the guys. She didn't expect them to think of her as anything more than maybe a sister.

Her thoughts are forced to a halt when glove covered, cold hands caress her warm, rough-from-working-all-her-life hands. The Hispanic looks up blankly to meet cheery, violate orbs. Russia smiles tenderly as he gently puts the mangled flowers on the habanero-covered kitchen counter and returns his hands on hers. America's ocean blue eyes light up in anger as he witnesses the love of his life being touched by his worst enemy. Rosa blushes lightly at the sudden display of affection.

Russia frowns disappointedly, "I'm sorry they aren't as beautiful as they were before. The flowers were supposed to represent how amazingly attractive inside and out I think you are," a cheerful smile appears on his face as he continues, "But it's okay! They couldn't capture those feelings anyways," Russia explains sweetly leaning closer to the dark brown haired girl.

"Hey, get off my-" The jealous North American commands loudly as he tries to climb over the couch but trips, hitting his oh so flawless face on the top of the couch, and flipping backwards to land straight on his back.

"America!" Mexico runs to her idiotic neighbor.

Russia's innocent smile twists into an angry expression. Damn spoiled brat is always getting in the way.

Rosa brushes the blonde's golden locks tenderly as she lectures, "Tonto (dummy), you need to be more careful."

The reckless country smiles goofily, enjoying every touch he receives from the lovely girl.

"Wow, America. You're so weak even a couch defeated you~," Ivan mocks with a sweet expression.

"Hey, shut up! Did you forget who won the Cold War?" America barks back.

"No one won that war, Amerikos (dumb American term in Russia)," Russia smiles with a hint of evilness as a dark aura starts to form behind him.

"No one became 'one with Russia' so you obviously didn't win," Alfred slinks up quickly as he retaliates.

"Who won the Space Race? Oh, that's right! I was the one to send the first object to orbit successfully around Earth, da?" The pale nation smirks.

"Guys!" Mexico intervenes, stepping between the two quarreling nations and scowls, "Aren't you guys supposed to be bilateral? I thought you were done with the arguing!"

Both men stare down at the floor, eyes full of shame. They're supposed to be working things out. It's an order from both their bosses but no matter how much they try, the two men just can't seem to get along properly. Russia thinks lowly of the immature American and America doesn't trust the Russian with even holding a quarter and giving it back. Finding out both are interested romantically in the same fair maiden doesn't aid this great dilemma.

"America," Rosa calls sternly.

A shiver travels across the back of the blue eyed man.

"Say sorry," She crosses her arms and awaits for him to apologies.

"But!" The blond whines, almost doing a little tantrum.

"Estados Unidos de America," She firmly states the countries name, informing him she won't budge.

After a few seconds filled with silence and tension America finally mumbles, "I'm sorry…"

"Good… well for you anyways. Russia, tu turno (your turn)," Mexico bends her neck over to Ivan's direction.

"Okay, I'm sorry America," The Russian smiles sweetly, making himself look more mature and America look like a whimpering brat.

Azure orbs glare at Ivan like daggers. Of cores, he would want to make himself look better with stupid tricks.

"Now that that's out of the way," Rosa walks over to her ranch's stairs. The tan nation turns around and smiles as she informs, "I'm going to duchar me (take a shower). I just got done picking all my chiles and I need to get clean. Can you chicos (guys) do me a favor?"

"Anything!" They both shout excitingly and desperately.

"Ummm… okay then… Can you clean my habaneros while I take a shower?" She commands more than asks with a sweet smile and glimmering, big eyes.

"Of cores!" America exclaims happily.

"Da! " Russia shouts with his sweet, adorable voice.

The Hispanic feels totally confused but she can't help and let out a giggle. She understands Russia's eagerness to help her but not the blonde's. Since when did America ever really help her out? They've always bickered childishly like brother and sister. Since when has he brought her flowers?

"Okay," she smiles, dismissing her wondering thoughts, then teases with a wink, "feel free to eat some."

America cringes at the thought of his tongue burning fiercely due to the vegetable.

Mexico laughs at the man's expression, then walks up to her bathroom with a bit of a tick-tock stride.

The two males stare in awe at the women of their dreams. Quickly, they break out of the spell and glower angrily into each other's eyes.

They remain glaring at the other as they both march over to the kitchen and put the habaneros in the sink. The two nations turn the simple task into a competition instantly. They aggressively throw the chilies into the sink, as if whoever puts the most wins Mexico herself.

"Stay away from Mexico and you will be last to become one with Russia, da?" Ivan orders more than asks with a firm tone. Russia's usual mask of serenity is off now that Mexico is out of hearing range. His face is now covered with an intimidating, tense expression.

"No way, dude. I live, like, right next to her. I can't stay away even if I wanted to, duh. And I don't want to. I live closer to her therefore should get her." America cleans the habaneros angrily as he states in an I'm-like-totally-right tone.

"I get along with her better. We never fight! She likes ME, da," Russia smirks.

"She's mine!" America calls dips on the tan girl.

"She will be one with Russia," The whiter of the two growls.

"You know what? I challenge YOU for Mexico's heart!" The blond defies loudly.

"To what?" The light haired nation asks intrigued.

Alfred looks around with darting eyes. He didn't really think this through. His indigo orbs gaze upon the red, yellow, and orange habaneros. A light-bulb lights up as Alfred's brain starts to develop an idea.

"The habanero challenge!" The American grins with anticipation. He would so win. Russia's food is very bland. The ex-Soviet won't be able to stand the spice.

"…What's that?" Russia tilts his head as he questions the weird sounding proposition. Americans are so unusual to him.

"Come on, dude! It's when two or more people see who can eat more habaneros without, like, totally giving in!" America explains rolling his eyes with frustrating. Doesn't this man know anything about anything?

Ivan smiles maniacally as he envisions America dying of heat over-load, crawling on the floor to Russia's feet, and begging for a cool liquid to ease the burning sensation. Of cores, Russia will deny and enjoy the view of his enemy slowly dying on the floor.

"So you in? Or are you chicken?" The hamburger loving man asks tauntingly.

"Da, lets play."

*****So, what did you think? Good so far? I hope XD Please let me know 8) Reviews make me very happy 8D and encourage me to finish school work faster to start typing XD Big thanks to Guest reviewers –somewhereinthebluesky, Kanji Master, MexicanoQIChile, PandajadasChinas, VanyasLover, PandoraHeartsFan, RandomRoses, and Pruhun! I very much appreciate your reviews and am posting you guys since I can't just PM you to let you know my gratitude. Very glad you liked the first chapter MexicanoQIChile 8) Hope you like this chapter too! 8D Hasta Luego!*****


	3. Intimidating n' Intense Staring

*****I'm so sorry it took so long but I have been very busy due to school 8( I also apologizes for the shortness of this chapter but somethings something 8) I'm very sorry and I hope you like it! 8D*****

America searches through Mexico's kitchen cabinets until he finally finds what he was looking for: a huge bowl and a big jar. He starts quickly filling up the copper colored bowl with the spicy vegetable.

"Fill up that jar with cold water." America nonchalantly commands Russia.

Ivan's violate eyes practically stab America in rage. How dare that idiot give him orders? After a few seconds of bitterness, Russia stops his glaring and does as the American directs.

'The faster this is over with, the faster Mexico will be mine,' Russia thinks too himself.

After the two nations make their objects full, they place them on Mexico's handmade dining table.

America sits first, because he's the leader therefor should always be ahead. Well, according to him. 'I will win because the hero always wins the girl!' He reassures himself.

Russia calmly takes the seat in front of his rival. 'This will be as simple as crushing a bug.' Ivan thinks to himself evilly.

"Okay, here's what we'll do. Whoever drinks water first losses and has to go home. Whoever endures more, wins the heroine." America smiles goofily as he imagines Russia weeping while walking out the door and Mexico in America's strong arms.

"Endure? Since when did you learn words higher than a fourth grade level?" Russia tilts his head ever so slightly as he smiles innocently.

America's pale shade terns pink with irritation as he puffs is cheeks out. And, for the first time in his life, America decides it would be best to not retaliate. He actually thinks it's better to just ignore the snarky comment.

"Let's just start, okay?" Alfred rolls his eyes, suppressing the urge to argue.

"Da," Russia smiles, feeling accomplished that he caused displeasure in his rival.

The two super-power nations stare dauntingly into the other's determined eyes. They both reach for a habanero.

"One…"

"Dva (two)…"

"Three!"

Russia and America quickly take a huge bite from their habanero without thinking twice of the consequences. They instantly feel a stinging sensation travel from the tip of their tongue to the back of their throat. The sharp pain travels to the bottom of their stomach when they finally get the strength to swallow.

'"This is what spicy food taste like? This is awful pain! Why would anyone eat this by choice?" Russia yells as his pale complexion turns to a dark shade of red.

America fiercely swallows air, attempting to cool off his aching throat and mocks, "What's wrong Russia? Already gonna give up?"

Ivan glares at the American intently. Hell no he isn't giving up after one bite. The Russian finishes the whole habanero and spits out the stem violently towards America. The chili's end passes by the side of America's face. The blue eyed nation narrows his eyes on the insulting Russian. Now it's war.

The two men begin to grab habanero after habanero. After only finishing three, a layer of sweat begins to develop over the American as his whole face turns crimson red. Russia begins to tear up. He's so unused to any type of stinging taste in his food but oddly enough is still handling it better than the American.

'I can't stand spicy food! Why the hell did I suggest this!?' America realizes. He has always been awful at handling burning food. Once again, he let his arrogance get the best of him.

Russia reaches for another habanero rapidly and roughly chops into it while his watery, purple eyes look sharply into his competitor's eyes, telling the blond with his intimidating stare that there is no way in hell he's going to win.

America breaths roughly as sweat drips from his forehead into his already red eyes. He growls under his panting at the rude action coming from Ivan. Damn it. Russia barely ever eats spicy food! How can the Eurasian nation be doing better than him! Alfred grabs two red habaneros and stuffs them into his mouth. He pierces the outer, crunchy shell of the vegetable with his teeth. The prickly juice squirts out into his tongue and touches his taste buds, causing them to burn incredibly. America cringes as he attempts to keep chewing.

The tall country challenges the American by quickly grabbing one, chewing it about three times, and swallowing it rapidly. He repeated the process three times in a matter of seconds and barely flinched. Although he is perspiring intensely he maintains a straight face. His stomach is scorching and his throat is experiencing a sharp pain, but he won't let his enemy know that.

They start to throw habaneros down their throats, trying to eat more than the other. After about twenty chiles each, both the countries meet their breaking point.

"Ugh! I can't take it!" America grips his own neck.

"How does Mexico do this?" Russia tries to ask while sticking out his tongue. It feels like it is swollen and blood red.

They spontaneously reach for the jar of water causing their hands to touch. Both look at each other's unwavering eyes. The two nations are dying from the boiling sensation and have no intention in giving up.

"I ate more so it's mine!" America shouts as he pulls the jar towards him, making some water spill on Mexico's nice floor.

"We ate the same amount you ignorant American!" The Russian informs with an extremely deep and intimidating tone as he pull the jar towards himself.

"It's mine" The blond forcefully pulls.

"No, it is mine!" Russia tugs

"Mine!"

"Mine!"

"Mine!"

"Que en el nombre de Dios (what in God's name) are you guys doing?" Mexico shouts as she enters her kitchen.

Damn it, she can't leave this fools along for half an hour without them going crazy!

"Mexico." Both the men turn to look at their love and forget about the jar. The both accidently send it flying.

The Hispanic has no time to react. Before she knew it, she was covered in ice cold water. Rosa looks down at her drenched clothes that she had just finished washing in a nearby river… so much hard work. Her dark brown eyes look up angrily at the two men.

Alfred's expression shows complete fear, like a child doing a mischievous deed that just caught by his parents.

Russia's shaky smile shows that he feels awkward, embarrassed, and kind of frightened.

*****So... what did you think? Please review 8) I'll try to update soon 8) Hasta luego 8D*****

*****Also, I have a poll in my profile about which Mexico pairing is your favorite. Please vote! I'm going to write an Hetalia high story soon and i would love your opinions on your fav pairings. Please check it out 8)*****


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